changes. Each step is chillier than the last. The coastal tribes only have a short cold season, so we rarely wear our shawls and high sandals, but right now, I wish I had them. Being cold is not something I’m used to.
Something moves in the corner of my eyes, and I twist toward it, stilling, as I watch a long centiworm scurry across the ground. A small shriek escapes. The worm vanishes into the dark. I shake out my body in disgust.
Waters, I hope Drazak didn’t hear. I shake again and continue forward, now watching the ground more diligently. The ground is now dirt and roots, differing from the rocks and slate near the fire. There’ll be more critters here. The soles of my sandals sink in the softer ground.
The wall I follow turns inward toward me, ending in a bend. The ceiling has lowered and it’s right above my head now. I press my palm to it, moving forward. In a few steps, I have to hunker so I don’t brush the rocks above.
I’m crouching when I see the edges of rootlike shapes appear. A pile of them. Thrusting my torch toward the roots, my brow furrows.
Dirty and pale, brown and gray, I realize what I’ve found aren’t roots at all, but bones. Bones in an array of decay. I stop, listening to the sounds of the cave.
The naga’s den? Or something else’s?
I wave my light closer.
The bones are small, with only a couple unintrusive larger ones. Femurs, thighs, wing shards. Most look like bird bones with a couple of cockatrice mixed in. Maybe some reptilians. There are several spines I’m certain are lizards and one small crocodile skull. Nothing that would pose a threat to a predator, not even a small one.
The naga boy is small. This could be his home.
I pull away and wave my torch about the den to get a better look. There are more bones scattered ahead of me, and I carefully step over them. Deeper in, I see that the cave comes to an abrupt stop. It’s also much cleaner back here, even the ground is level and packed tight. There are shadows of things further in.
I crouch even lower to reach them. Stopping once to cautiously peer behind me before I do.
There’s a small nest of giant jungle leaves with large sticks walled around them. Dead flowers are weaved into them, probably with scents that repel bugs, as I recognize a few. There are feathers from the birds stuffed among the leaves, as well as poorly shorn hides of small creatures. Thankfully, the hides have mostly dried out, even if they haven’t been cured correctly.
It’s crude, but it’s a naga’s nest. A small one. There’s only one. The nest is only big enough for one.
He’s alone.
I don’t know why that makes me sad, but it does. He was no bigger than Haime, and his upper humanoid body was thin. What happened to his parents? There’s no sign of any other creature living here but him.
Nagas rarely nest this deep in a cave. They preferred the undercrofts of the giant jungle trees, and sometimes, they nest high up in the wider branches. But deep in a cave where they can’t easily lure prey or drag kills to their nest? It was strange.
Maybe he feels safer here, I wonder. If he’s alone, he probably is… as long as he keeps the cave entrance hidden.
Which it probably was before Haime barreled after him.
Beside the nest are clothes and old baskets—stolen from my tribe. I recognize the patterning. I rummage through the pile.
There’s shells and broken ropes, frayed bags, and plants. Plants, like the flowers in his nest, they all have medicinal or otherwise aptitudes. There are also some pretty rocks and stones, ones I know my more creative sisters would love to have for their jewelry and armor.
Up against the wall is a long, thick stick with a crudely sharpened end.
He’s making a spear?
Other naga’s use them, but not often. Most aren’t smart enough.
I grab the spear, pull out my dagger, and sharpen the end to a better point. Several minutes later, I place it back against the wall and retreat. It’s not much, but it’s the least I can do. He hasn’t attacked us…
Yet.
I debate taking the spear but shake my head, leaving instead. I wish I’d brought a ration with me.
I’ll come back later, I decide. Feed him.
We may need each other yet.
My newfound kindness to the naga surprises me. I hadn’t cared